Chapter 41
Villa Afzal, 14C Street, Al Safa 1, Dubai:
3rd March; 11:35am
Afzal is the Arabic term for superior, and whilst the Villa itself was certainly superior, the people inside felt frustrated and neutered - anything but superior, in fact. Early that morning Vastrick had sent an email to Max, which read:
‘Max,
We can find no record of any recent lettings in your stated area, but this is not a surprise as many lettings are either recorded late or not at all. We did have a hit from DEWA (Dubai Electricity and Water Authority) however. It seems that they disconnected a car repair facility last year when a Volvo Dealership closed down, and a week ago they reconnected it for the landlord. I attach a site plan for the area with the workshop marked in red.
Regards, Dominic.’
The red highlighted building was almost exactly where they had lost contact with their target last night. The three agents tried calling the Brigadier at Bur Dubai Police Station to request a task force to surround the workshop, but he was not available. Despite their urgent requests, they could not persuade the lady on the end of the line to forward their call to his mobile phone, as he was attending a family wedding. Worse still, his deputy was reluctant to respond to their requests without the Brigadier’s agreement, but he said that he would seek agreement from someone in authority.
The phones had remained silent for almost two hours before Sheikh Mahmoud called to ask what was happening. Max explained the delay.
“Heaven help us! There may be bombs in that workshop and we are sitting around worrying about whether we should storm in and seize them. I will call you back in a few minutes,” the Sheikh said, anger hardening his normally soft voice.
That call had ended almost thirty minutes ago and Max, Todd and Jamie were sitting impatiently, trying to stay calm.
“I’m going down there. I won’t do anything, I’ll just make sure he doesn’t get away,” Todd said as he grabbed his car keys.
“Todd, the police told us to stay away. They said they have the place under surveillance. If you go storming in you could ruin everything and get yourself arrested,” Jamie noted. Todd would have argued with her, if the phone hadn’t rung at that precise moment. Max answered, listened for a moment, and said, “Thank you, Sheikh. We’re on our way.”
***
Todd, Max and Jamie were closer to the workshop than the police and so they arrived at the Gold and Diamond Centre first. They pulled the Range Rover into the car park, after assuring the Pakistani guard that they were customers of the MORE Café and that they were booked in for lunch.
“Where’s the surveillance?” Todd asked. The others looked around but there was no sign of a police presence. “Let’s move into a position where we can see the shutter door and the personnel door.”
The others followed Todd, aware that they were unarmed and vulnerable. The Sheikh had mentioned that if the police found weapons on any one of the three they would arrest them and ask questions later. They were attending as observers only.
A moment later a police car pulled up beside them and the passenger in the green and white Nissan 4x4, marked POLICE, wound down his window casually and asked in a loud voice, “What are you doing?”
Max crossed to the car and put his fingers to his lips in the universal sign of silence. Max whispered, “There is supposed to be police surveillance on this workshop. We’re working with the Brigadier and Sheikh Mahmoud.” The policeman was still wary.
“We watched the place for two hours this morning, before we were sent off to an accident in Al Quoz. We have been gone only forty five minutes. The place looks deserted,” the policeman added.
Max looked at the dark-skinned, moustachioed man, dressed in what looked like military fatigues, and replied despairingly.
“OK, we can’t worry about that now. A tactical team is on its way. We’d better all stay out of sight.”
“No-one told us about a tactical team,” the policeman said, reaching for the radio. Max walked back to his friends to await the arrival of the task force.
***
Kwong Chong Lee had slept late, and when he awoke he dressed in casual clothes and crammed his dinner suit into the big black holdall which also held his gun. He placed the holdall in the trunk of his hire car, beside the lunchbox bombs, and closed the lid.
The Shadow raised the shutters and drove his car out onto the concrete apron beyond. After closing the shutters by remote control, he drove out of the estate.
As he turned onto the main road, he froze. A police vehicle was blocking his path. His heart racing, Kwong Chong Lee waved a hand, suggesting that he was allowing the police car right of way. The dark- skinned, moustachioed policeman in the passenger seat held up a thumb in acknowledgement.
The police car turned into the car park and, concerned that the policeman might remember his vehicle, The Shadow headed off to a shopping mall where he could safely abandon the car. There was no point in taking unnecessary risks when the attack was just a day away.
***
The tactical team turned up shortly after the police car repositioned itself out of sight of the workshop unit. Eight men, dressed in black and wearing helmets and body armour, climbed out of two unmarked cars. Four police cars came to a halt in the car park, and seven men and a woman sergeant, dressed head to toe in a green burkha with three red stripes on each arm, alighted and took up positions with their handguns at the ready. The seven regular policemen were dressed in khaki fatigues, heavy boots and green berets. The stripes on their arms, and the uniform trim, were bright red. Red and green, of course, were the colours of the national flag.
The tactical team banged on the doors and shouted, “POLICE! COME OUT!” When there was no response, they tried the doors. Both were locked.
“ARMED POLICE COMING IN!” a black-shrouded policeman shouted as the doors were forced.
The Shadow had not left in a hurry, and he had obviously intended to return, as a camp bed stood neatly made up in the corner, beside a small fridge that held soft drinks and snacks. Unfortunately there was no sign of any explosives.
The leader of the tactical team shouted “All clear!” in English and Arabic, and then said something that Max did not understand with his kindergarten grasp of Arabic. The leader’s meaning became apparent a moment later when a scruffy looking dog came into view, straining at its leash. After sniffing around the gathered team, its handler led it into the workshop. The dog raced over to a box in the corner of the room and barked sharply three times, then stood resolutely looking into the box, wagging his tail.
Nestling at the bottom of the otherwise empty box were three torn sheets of waxed paper. “There were explosives in here, Sir,” the handler said to his immediate superior.
Todd swore loudly and kicked the door hard. “What a bloody farce! We had him, Max, I know we did. We had him and we let him go!” He swore roundly again, and stormed off to the car.
The leader of the tactical group caught up to the three operatives a few minutes later. His chest tag read ‘Al Mittan”. He spoke directly to Jamie.
“I am as distressed by this as you are. We were sitting in our station all morning waiting for instructions. We got here as soon as we could.”
“We understand, Sergeant. Todd and I both have experience of being jerked around by the chain of command. What was the hold up?” she asked.
“The building is owned by a developer whose chairman is closely related to the Ruler. No-one would risk giving the go ahead until he was consulted. Then, when he was consulted, he said, ‘Hell, yes! You don’t need my permission, go and get the……” He looked at Jamie, flushed and said, “You can probably imagine the rest.”
***
The Shadow was parking his car at the Mall of the Emirates when his phone beeped. He looked down and saw an alert from the application he had set up to protect the workshop. The doors had been breached. He could not return there. In fact, he needed to be out of this tiny Emirate as soon as possible. He felt suddenly claustrophobic, and his heart started to race.